


Mick and Leonard One-Shots

by Earth_2_Cinnamon_Roll



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Feels, Fluff, Multi, Pretty much just some brotherly love, sickfics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-11-14 17:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 15,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18056570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earth_2_Cinnamon_Roll/pseuds/Earth_2_Cinnamon_Roll
Summary: (I’ll take requests! Sickfics are labeled.)From good days, to bad days, to happy days, to scary ones. These are just a few of the mix from the domestic lives of our two favorite Central City baddies.





	1. Valentine's   Day

~A/N~

Hello there! Welcome to the short fics from...well, me. I update frequently. Although I do go on some long-lived hiatuses every once in a while, don’t except a lack of fics from me!  
—————————————————————  
“You write when you’re bored?”  
He would have snapped, mainly for the interruption to his train of thoughts and catching him in a vulnerable place (in front of his typewriter), but that stupid little smile on Ray’s face, an annoying but sweet smile, dried the words right off his tongue. Instead, he sighed, defeated.  
Mick stood up. He ripped the paper from his typewriter and crossed the room, uttering a “maybe” when he passed beside Ray.  
“Oh...” Ray trailed off. “Well, that’s cool.” He forced another smile. Mick begrudgingly returned it.  
“Is that why you’re here?” He asked. Ray shook his head.  
“No,” he answered, “I was just checking on you.”  
Crumpling up the paper in his hand, Mick stuffed it in his pocket. As he began gently cleaning up his typewriter, Ray rambled on about what had occurred over the last four days. Mick, of course, had been absent for them. 

“You were in here for so long,” Ray had said, “we’d thought something had happened to you!”  
Mick rolled his eyes. “Can’t get rid of me that easy.”  
After the first part of Ray’s speech, Mick tuned him out. Midway through he settled for a few nods every so often. When Ray would stop talking, all Mick had to do was say something like “yeah” or “cool” and Ray would continue talking.  
He allowed his eyes to wander across the room. He spotted the cold gun resting on the desk across from his cold gun, which triggered an unpleasant sensation churning in his gut.  
There was a suddenly a heavy weight on his chest. Mick felt his face grow hot.  
Before he knew it, Ray was standing at his side, saying something he couldn’t quite make out and putting a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.  
“Hey, buddy. You okay?”  
The look in his eyes and that sickeningly sweet tone of his made it too difficult for Mick to meet his eyes. He grew stiff and turned away, jerking his arm from Ray’s grasp.  
“Yes.” He grunted, trying to ignore Ray’s hurt gaze burning into him. “Fine.”  
Ray began to say something, then clamped his mouth shut. His receding footsteps seemed to echo loudly in the small room. “I was just wondering. Sara asked me to see if you had a spare minute? Maybe you could come out for a little while?”  
Mick stared at the ground. He let out a loud sigh, realizing that if he didn’t say something soon Ray might never leave.  
“Tell her I’ll be out in a minute. I’ve gotta do some stuff.”  
Mick waited until his door had been shut and Ray was (most likely) gone. He snatched a used t-shirt off of the floor and threw it over his typewriter, hiding it from prying eyes. His eyes turned back towards the cold gun, relighting his mind with vivid images. On a normal day, he could barely stand to look at it. But not this time.  
Instead, he carefully slid his hands under the weapon and lowered it into its case.  
“Mick!” He jumped at Ray’s overly cheerful voice chiming in through the door. “Are you coming?”  
Snapped from his thoughts (again), Mick slammed the case shut. He pushed it under the bench and made a beeline for the door.  
“Alright, alright, Haircut. I’m coming.” He grinned. He grabbed his coat off a rack near the door (can’t go out without it) and slipped his gloves on (takes them off for special writing). “Gideon, open the door for me.”

Ray dragged Mick to the kitchen. On the way there, he made sure to blindfold him, spin him around a few times for good measure, and then dragged him again.  
“Where are we going?” Mick had asked, more than once.  
The answer was always, “You’ll see.”  
He pushed Mick forward a few steps, narrowly missing a corner of the countertop in the pantry.  
Mick’s face was set in a grim frown. Ray, of course, ignored this fact.  
“Ooh, I can’t wait until you see what we’ve got for you.” He said. “Sara and Zari were up all night making the food...”  
As they turned the corner, the warm smell of apple pie and turkey filled the air. Mick blinked under the blindfold. His stomach groaned hungrily.  
Suddenly, he couldn’t hear (or feel) Ray anymore. He was alone. Baffled, he took off the blindfold.  
He was standing in a room he didn’t even know existed. All around there were little white hearts and snowflakes, tiny carved out canaries and even candles. On a table in the back of the room there was a huge atom display, with the common design etched out.  
Mick couldn’t help chucking. He had forgotten about Valentine’s Day.  
One the left side of the room, there was a long table topped with pies and turkey and other foods, with a little separate table on which bottles of beer and champagne sat.  
On the other side of the room, Mick could tell that they had decked out on table decorations. Light pink tablecloth was topped with mini carved out hearts and the team’s personal hero logos, including Len’s. There was even a pot of flowers at the very middle, courtesy of Ray most likely.  
“We saved a seat for you.” Ray, coming as soon as he’d gone, appeared behind him again. “Do you like it?”  
“Yeah.” Mick dabbed at his eye. “I like it.”


	2. Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mick gets glasses and is afraid to show his friend.

“Mick?”  
Leonard slowly made his way down the hall, subconsciously rubbing his thumb over the small photo he’d managed to dig out of an old box in the basement.  
He’d looked everywhere for Mick. In the bathroom, in his own room, even in the kitchen, and Mick was nowhere to be found.  
Just like Leonard, Mick was hard to find when he didn’t wanna be found. But Leonard knew his partner’s secrets like the cold gun he’d left on the couch. It’d be best that he comes in peace. Or at least look like he was.  
He ventured farther down the hall and, of course, came to a stop in front of the “office” they shared.  
Just as Leonard had expected, the door was shut tight. Faint beams of light seeped through the bottom, the only sign that someone was actually in there.  
“Mick.” Leonard rapped his knuckles against the door. “Mind if I come in?”  
Silence. He tapped his foot and sighed, willing himself not to get too impatient. As much as he tried to hide it, Leonard could easily tell Mick was upset. But the silence was probably the worst part.  
Leonard could feel a sliver of fear rising up in the back of his throat. He almost knocked again, maybe harder this time, but at the last minute could make out that familiar growl.  
”Door’s open.” Mick huffed. Leonard took that as a yes.  
When he got inside, Leonard was surprised to see Mick hunched over the desk at the far end of the room. Leonard stepped a little closer.  
Mick was holding his glasses.  
Scattered across the desk was an assortment of things. From blueprints to pens to markers to papers, Leonard had it all. He also had a box for everything and proceeded to push everything off the desk and into the box, tossed the box to the side, stood close to Mick’s side and said, “Scoot over.”  
Mick looked up. Then he looked back down at the glasses. And, finally, he stared down at the bench beneath him and slid over, giving Leonard enough room to squeeze in beside him.  
“Here,” Leonard grabbed Mick’s glasses and put them into the box, then handed him the photo. “See this guy here? Who does he remind you of?”  
Mick, who was still a little hurt after what had happened, muttered something under his breath and stared at the photo intensely. If Leonard hadn’t known better, he would’ve expected the photo to burst into flames.  
Leonard gingerly wrapped his arm around Mick’s shoulder and smirked, waiting for the man to meet his gaze.  
“It’s me.”  
“Wait.” Mick whipped around to face Leonard with wide eyes. “You? This four-eyed freak’s you?” He shook his head with a grin. “Nah, you’re pullin’ my leg.”  
Leonard turned the photo around. “It’s me alright. Look, it even has my name.” 

They stayed there for a few more minutes. After going over the handwriting and finding that it wasn’t Leonard’s, and the boy in the photo was indeed Leonard, Mick flipped it back around and simply stared at the photo. His gaze was unreadable. 

Leonard hated when Mick got like this.  
But it didn’t last long. And before Leonard knew it, Mick was up and putting on his coat, and making a beeline for the door.  
“Hey, where you going?” Leonard ran out after him. Somehow Mick had forgotten the keys...  
“To get me some of them glasses.” He winked. “They’re pretty snazzy. Also, mine are broken, so I need a new pair. Get in, Len. We still got time before they close.”  
Leonard shook his head. But he was smiling, and he jumped up into the passenger seat and handed Mick the keys.


	3. The Ghosts of our Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure where I was going with this one. But here we are. :)  
> In which Mick is visited by an old time ghost pal of his.

He spun on his heel and grabbed a beer. Checked the clock, only to see the neon numbers glowing right back at him. 

3:21 A.M.

Mick should be asleep. Be sleeping like all the other normal people. And yet, here he was. Not much he could do at this point, though. Or at least that’s what Mick believed.

Taking a silent seat just outside of the library, Mick could’ve sworn everyone was asleep. Well, everyone besides him, of course. But a cold, gentle hand resting on his shoulder told him otherwise. Probably just Haircut.

He shivered, clutching the beer tightly. The chilly sensation was gone just as fast as it had begun, leaving Mick alone with his thoughts once more. Once more, he was wrong. 

“You cold?” 

Wait a minute. Mick knew that voice...he furrowed his eyebrows. Setting the beer to the side, Mick risked a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, a hazy version of his dead partner stood near, holding up what looked a lot like Leonard’s old coat. 

In a state of denial, Mick gave a low huff and curled his knees to his chest. But Ghost Leonard didn’t back down, and wrapped the heavy coat around his shoulders, coming down to sit beside him. Mick turned away. 

Ghost Leonard sighed. Mick said nothing. 

“I wanted to check on you. See how you were holding up.” 

Mick still didn’t say a word.

”I can see now..probably should’ve come sooner.” 

Before Mick could react, Ghost Leonard shifted so that he was pressed close to Mick’s side, his own misty hand rested on top of Mick’s scarred one. 

Mick allowed him to stay there. Reluctant as it was, Mick accepted Ghost Leonard’s comforting embrace. They stayed there for hours. Mick never pulled away. 

Mick knew it wouldn’t last forever. Yet, he was ready when it came to an end.


	4. October 23, 2018 (Central City)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s funny how we almost always end up back at our old roots. <3

Around the outskirts of Central City sat an old, empty house. Its usual mess of trash and clutter was long gone, along with every other little piece of furniture or dirt. Several wild dogs barked and snarled off in the distance, never coming to close to the abandoned property. 

Near the edges of an overgrown dirt road a man trudged silently up the the path and onto the driveway, continuously keeping his head down. October’s chilly winds nipped at the rim of his black sweater, but he simply pulled it closer and kept going.

He paused in front of the rickety porch steps, sending a glance in each direction. Once satisfied with making sure that he was all alone, the man fumbled through his pockets for the key while approaching the door. 

Inside, it took some physical strength and a bit of elbow grease before he managed to get in. Shutting the door behind him, the man took out a large, metallic grey gun and sighed. 

“Hey, Len.” He rumbled softly, clutching the gun to his chest. “It’s, uh, been a while since I got some to, um, to talk with ya one-on-one. But, um, I just wanna tell you I miss ya. I’m not big on the whole touchy-feely. But I want you to know I love you. You’re my best friend, my partner. In crime. You’re like a brother to me(at least you were). Ya always will be, man.” 

The man gently set the gun down, taking a long breath. He stood up and let it back out with a sigh, forming a billow of mist in the chilly morning air. “Thanks again, Len.”

He placed the key on a windowsill near the door and headed back outside, feet leaving tracks across the dewy grass. After he’d made it as far as the mailbox, the man sent a small smile down at the messily painted “Snart’s” it bore on the side. 

“I’ll never forget you.” His promise came as a subtle whisper. With one last sigh, the man pulled out his own handmade gun and set fire to the old house, staring up at the open sky.


	5. Big Boys Don’t Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reason as to why Mick is so against Emotions.

Mick walked into the kitchen late at night. It was dark, and he couldn’t sleep. His father was gone for the week, so it was just him, his mother, and (???) other siblings. 

At the table, Mick’s mother was shoving things into a small bag. Her face was bright red and her eyes puffy.  
“Mama?” He whispered. “Whatcha doing, mama?” 

Startled, she dropped her bag. Clothes and other personal items scattered across the floor. She quickly crouched down and began stuffing everything back where it belonged, while Mick scurried to help her.  
“Just putting some things together.” Mick’s mother said.  
She wiped her face with her sleeve, recomposing herself in front of her eldest son. “You should be in bed, Mickey.” 

“I’m not tired.” Mick stifled a yawn. His mother smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his head. 

“Go on to bed now, my love. Your father will be here in a few days.”  
As his mother made for the door, Mick rushed after her. He grabbed her hand and tugged with all his might. 

“You’re leaving, aren’t you, Mama? Please, please don’t go! We need you!”  
Her voice faltered. “Mick.” She shuddered. 

“Listen to me, alright Mickey?” She got down to his level. Large tears began to fall down Mick’s chubby cheeks, but his mother tenderly wiped them away.  
“Mama loves you. I have to go now, but your father will be here. Listen, listen to me Mick.” She gripped his shoulders tightly, looking him straight in the eye. “Wipe those tears away, love. Big boys don’t cry.”

Mick gave one last sniffle, took a big breath, then settled. “Yes, mama.” 

“I love you, my dear Mickey. Be good for your father, you hear?” “Yes, Mama.” Mick smiled. “I’ll be the biggest little boy you’ve ever seen!” 

One last time, Mick’s mother placed a long, loving kiss on the top of his head. 

“Thank you, Mick. Look out for your siblings for me. And remember: big boys don’t cry.”


	6. Look At Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone’s in a bad mood today.

Getting Mick back onto the ship had to have been the easiest part. Getting him to settle down was a lot more difficult.

It took the power of Snart, Sara, and Rip just to keep Mick in the chair. Seeing as they’d crash landed, and Gideon was not intact at the moment(to which Jax was diligently working on), they had to rely on a small set of VI sets and other small antibiotics Ray and the professor had managed to find. Mick was not having it.

But neither was Snart. So he did what any other criminal would do to help their over-30-years-partner-in-crime. 

Slamming down on his chest, Snart forced Rip and Sara to move down and secure everything else. Cupping his hands around Mick’s face, he leaned in close. “Mick. Look at me, alright? Look into my eyes...it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay, you hear? I need you to do something for me.”

The pyro nodded, and relaxed as Snart secured a breathing mask around his head. “Mhm.”

”Okay. I want you to close your eyes, and count to ten. Can you do that?” Snart whispered, his gaze soft. Resting a hand on Mick’s shoulder, he heard his partner give a mumble of agreement. “Good.” Turning towards Ray, Snart nodded towards the box filled with medical supplies. “You can go ahead and start, he’s okay now.” 

Closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair, Mick cracked one open to watch as Ray slipped a small needle into his wrist, fixing it there with a bit of tape. He lazily brought his attention up towards another machine, which had him on a drip. 

“He should be all set.” Ray looked up, and stood to his feet. 

“Thank you.” Mumbled Mick, who let out a soft sigh before drifting off to sleep. Snart shot the remaining three a grateful glance, before it hardened into a light glare. The rest of team members quickly got the message, filing out of the room and leaving the two friends to have some time alone.


	7. (SickFic) Dazed and Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (This will be worked on in the near future)

Still clutching tightly to Snart’s coat, Mick doubled over and vomited all over the dark sidewalk. 

“Woah, careful.” Snart whispered anxiously, keeping a strong grip on his poisoned partner. “The car’s not too far from here. You gonna be alright?”

”I..I don’t know.” He panted, bringing a weak hand to wipe away any excess saliva while gaining a slightly disgusted looked from Snart. “I really don’t feel good, Len.” 

“Yeah,” Snart sighed. “I can tell.” 

They’d gotten caught on that trip. But not by the police. Some strange looking men in dark outfits had a few guns loaded, and one of the three was aimed towards Snart’s direction. Mick had made quick notice of this, jumping in front of what seemed to be some sort of advanced tranquilizer dart. 

Snart has a strong feeling that he’d have to take Mick into the hospital and get the poison removed, but he couldn’t risk it...as soon as they saw his partner, he knew where’d Mick would end up. 

“Here, j-just, um, lean on me.” Shifting his weight, Snart wrapped an arm around Mick’s shoulders and helped the unsteady pyro gain some control over his feet. “That’s it. Not too long now.”

”Before I pass out, or before we get to the car?” Mick gave a weak chuckle. “You know, dinner wasn’t the only thing I brought up back there...”

”What?” Snart paused, looking him in the eyes. Mick’s gaze was already glassy and unfocused, as his frame had started to hunch over. 

“There was..some blood.” Mick whispered, swaying on his feet. “Although ‘m sure..I’ll be just....fine.”

Immediatly rushing out to catch him, Snart was now stuck with an unconscious and sick Mick, in the middle of nowhere, without any form of communication, and without the knowledge of where the car was. Let alone if it’d even start up again.


	8. A Little Different From The Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some brotherly love.

“As your unofficial big brother, I refuse to let you be put in danger any longer.”

The streets cackled and burned with a fluorescent light as the flames scaled nearby buildings, turning them into ash in seconds. In the distance, fire alarms and screams filled with horror-stricken rage split the air, echoing through the choking billows of smoke. 

The two criminals stood in the midst of it all, their guns strewn on the ground not far from them. One out of the two middle-aged men, wearing a royal blue fur hooded coat, took the other’s scarred hand into his own, pulling it to his chest. 

“And as your unofficial younger brother, I refuse to let you deal with this alone.” He whispered, reaching up and pulling his partner’s soot-and-tear streaked goggles down around his neck. “So maybe you’re a little different from the rest. What does that prove, Mick?” 

“It proves the fact that I’m a monster.” Mick answered thickly. 

“Well, you’re my monster.” The man reassured him. “And we’re brothers. By law or not by law. We’ll get through this together.” 

“And what if we don’t, Snart? What happens then?” 

“Hey.” Snart rested Mick’s arm back down at his side, placing his hands firmly on his shoulders. “Trust me. We will get through this. There are no ‘what if’s’ or doubts about it. I promise you.” Quickly pulling down his own goggles, Snart met Mick’s glistening gaze with his own tender blue one. “Do you trust me?”

”Yeah.” Mick whispered. “I trust you.” 

“M’kay. Let’s get out of here before those cops come around.” Giving Mick’s shoulder one last encouraging pat, Snart magically produced an old set of keys out of his pocket and smiled. “Ride’s over there behind the building. But don’t worry; not another mini-van.”


	9. Head Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This idea actually came from when Dominic Purcell, the actor of Mick, had gotten severely injured onset for another TV show, Prison Break.   
> Yeaaaah...

My mind was spinning. I could barely focus my vision on anything. There were...voices. I wasn’t quite sure what they were saying, but I knew there were voices. 

A hot sticky liquid trickled down the side of my face, seeping into my eyes. I started blinking rapidly, trying my best to clear my line of sight the best I could. Didn’t make much of a difference, seeing as everything was a faint blur. 

Someone dropped down beside me. I felt it. My head was aching...it hurt so bad. Why? What happened? I can’t remember anything. But I can see Snart’s face..he needed me. He was standing right there, at the end of the hallway. He was calling to me, his lips were moving..but no sound came. 

I ran. I ran fast. I ran hard. I even ran into someone. They toppled into the wall, sending a bunch of other stuff crashing down. But l didn’t stop running. Then there was pain. Agonizing, excruciating pain. My vision went white, then black. I fell to the floor...everything was numb. So numb. Snart was gone. He was gone...

“Mick...” I heard someone say. l could’ve sworn I heard someone say those words... “MICK!!!” 

I blinked again. Resting my gaze on the blurry face in front of me, I tried to focus on what they were saying...who they were. “Ray...mond.” I breathed. “Raymond...H-Haircut?” 

“It’s me, it’s me, Mick.” He answered, panting. I couldn’t see very well, but I knew he was scared. I couldn’t blame him. I’d be too, if I saw my friend sprawled out on the floor, bleeding out all over the place. “J-just, take it easy. Stay awake.”

He cupped his hands around my face for a brief second, tilting my head downward to get a good look at the wound. I closed my eyes, grimacing. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He winced. “I know that must hurt.” 

It didn’t. It really didn’t. I couldn’t feel a thing... “R-Ray...I saw.....I saw S-S-Snart...” I choked out. “H-He was stuck...he needed me...h-he wanted me to save him..but I-..I couldn’t-“ My voice cut off with a ragged breath, salty tears of pain and anger at myself streaming down my cheeks, mingling with the scarlet beads of blood. “I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t get to him in time!” 

“M-Mick.” He stuttered, visibly starting to panic. “Mick, you need to calm down. It’s okay! No, Snart’s dead. I’m sorry...he’s dead. You’re okay, he’s not here...he’s not in danger. Mick..Mick, stay with me. Mick!”

All of this. It was too much. I coughed and sputtered, this time choking on my sobs and the blood that dripped onto my tongue. Swallowing coarsely. Giving a pitiful sniff, I managed to finally calm my mind and regulate my breathing. The downfall for this, whoever, was unconsciousness. And the last thing I saw before passing out was Ray’s anxious face crouching over me...and Snart standing in the back of the hall.


	10. Tranquilizer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every man for himself. (Mick vs. Legion!Leonard)

Mick sat hunched over the small desk in the back of his ‘closet’, going over his gun. He didn’t have much time before they came and found him. He had to do as much work as he could to it, maybe even upgrading the heat level here and there. Not like they mattered to him, anyway. A few third-degree burns wouldn’t hurt, considering the scars they’d left him. 

The floorboards suddenly creaked under his feet. He narrowed his eyes, slowly taking his hands of the gun and raising them into the air. Warily standing up, Mick fought the urge to turn around. In doing so, Mick would only get into more trouble. Just do what they say, and he’d be free to go in for the kill...if he aimed it right. 

There was a deep breath, followed by a hollow sound and a sharp pain in Mick’s right shoulder blade. He grunted in surprise, immediately slamming his palms down in an effort to steady himself. A lightheaded sensation buzzed in the back of his mind while the room started spinning like a top. All at once, Mick felt too heavy to stand on his own two feet. He glanced up at the ceiling, too numb to feel his back hit the floor. 

Before Mick could slip into the darkness forming in dancing specks throughout his eyesight, Snart’s face came into view. A dark smirk pulled the side of his mouth up in a slight grin. “Sleep tight, buddy.” He sneered, grabbing Mick’s Heat Gun and running back out the door. 

That was cold, Mick had to admit. Cold, but clever. Just like Snart to pull something of those sorts.


	11. It’s Not Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares are never fun.

Mick found himself in a dark hallway. Everything was black..except for the cell in front of him. 

A tugging sensation pulled at his chest as he hauled himself up off the cold ground and stared out into the cell. There was something in it...he just wasn’t sure what. 

“I’m sure you’re probably wondering what’s going on.” That voice. Mick recognized that voice. It was...it was Snart! Snart was here. Snart was alive! But..how? 

“L-Len?” He whispered hoarsely, stepping up to the railed door. His hand hovered in the air a few inches away from the cell, almost close enough to touch it...

The cell was unlocked, to his surprise. Why Snart didn’t just waltz out and meet up with him, Mick wasn’t quite sure. But something was off...maybe it was how the room kept spinning every several seconds, or the fact that he was the only one here. Besides Snart, of course. Something wasn’t right. Maybe he was dreaming? 

He watched in utter shock as Snart stood up, pressing against the cell door. No matter how hard he pushed, it didn’t budge. 

“You see, this is the Spear’s doing. All of this? It could be real. I could be here again. You could bust me out. Everything...it all relies on what you decide.” 

“I-“ Mick started to say, stumped. “I don’t know what to think. I-it’s all real?” 

“Could be.” Snart corrected. But his eyes softened, and he met Mick’s flustered gaze. Reaching his hand out through the cell, he pressed as close as possible. The cell never moved an inch. “Take my hand, Mick...we could be partners again. You could be happy. Just take my hand, and set me free. Take the Spear...use it...” 

“Leonard...” He breathed. Dazed, Mick took a step forward. He shakily pressed his hand closer, fingers twitching slightly. Before he knew what he was doing, Mick suddenly jerked his hand back, eyes wide. “N-NO! I can’t. I can’t use the Spear. I...I can’t. This is all just the Spear’s doing. It’s not real..”

Silence. Dead silence. Mick could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop for a second. 

“Oh...I see.” Everything around them slowly started to fade out. The thing that got him was the dark look of betrayal and anger stretched across Snart’s face. “I see how it is now.” 

“L-Len..LEONARD.” Slowly, Mick’s voice began to rise in pitch again. 

“You had your chance, Mick.” Snart replied coldly. 

“No, no no no NO!!! DON’T LEAVE ME!!!!” The shrill scream split the air like a gunshot. Mick reared forward, hands clenching the iron bars. A sharp sizzle and hiss came from the contact, causing him to stumble back in pain and fear. 

“GAH!” He cried out, dropping down against the wall and holding his hands close to his chest. They were now red and swelling, blisters and burns forming across his palms. Snart had already melted into the shadows, leaving Mick crouched in a quivering heap against the wall in the dark, cold, empty hall.


	12. What It’s Like to be Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes freedom comes at a price.

Close your eyes. 

Raise the gun. 

Pull the trigger.

Watch it burn.

Something was different about this. Maybe it was the lighthearted sensation the growing flames gave him, or the thought that everything was behind him now, lost to time. All those thoughts, all that pain, all those emotions, all those memories...gone. 

Mick felt...free, in a way. Even as the bitter tears fell down his face, he put on a smile and stood in the background, watching it all burn. Besides, this was what it feels like to be free. He should be happy. And yet, he wasn’t. Snart was gone, but he should feel relieved, not full of grief.

Right? In that case....

Why did he feel so alone?


	13. Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fatal accident, just the other way around.

The fire had already engulfed half the building. Snart wasn’t so lucky with his plan this time; he found himself stuck in a checkmate move. 

“MICK!!!” He screamed, his voice already made hoarse from smoke inhalation. He could no longer see his partner. “MICK, WHERE ARE YOU?”

Silence. He had already gotten used to the faint ringing in his ears after the bomb went off, and the crackle and snap the flames made. He was so close to the door. So close...all it would take was a five foot sprint, and he’d be safe. He could hear the ambulances. He could hear the wailing of a fire truck or two. But they wouldn’t make it in time. Not in time to save them both. 

Snart waited a few seconds. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. He even wanted to break something. This was his fault. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve known that bomb was there. And now Mick would die because of him. At least he was dying in the one thing he loved. At least his death wouldn’t be too bad, or so Snart thought. He couldn’t think too much on it. It only pressed on the impending tears. 

“SNART!!!” 

He raised his head. Stumbling back a step, Snart looked into the flames. He looked hard. He held his breath, forcing himself not to breathe in the fumes. Just out of the corner of his eyes, he could make out Mick’s unsteady silhouette. 

“GET OUT OF HERE!!” Mick cried out to him. 

“No,” Snart whispered. “NOT WITHOUT YOU!!!” He found his voice again, and pushed himself to his feet. He wasn’t sure when his knees had given out. 

“THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO, GO!!!” Was all Snart heard before blacking out.

*********

Bright lights flashed. Snart cracked his eyes open, and heaved in a ragged breath. To his surprise, it turned out to be more of a sob. 

The nurse rushed to the bedside, checking him over. He barely even noticed. To be honest, he didn’t even care. 

Mick was dead. 

His partner was dead.


	14. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s just take a moment to pretend that Savage was the one to kill Leonard.

Mick walked alongside Kendra, Ray, and Rip, sending anxious glances around. His partner hadn’t been answering. He wondered why...

That’s when it happened. When he saw it. The streets were empty. The horizon casted shy beams of light across the sidewalk, creating a dim shadow over Snart’s unmoving form. He stopped. Fury and pain boiled in his eyes. Mick’s whole body shook as he fell to his knees, a soft unbelieving gasp making its way through his parted, quivering lips. 

“No...” He whispered, pressing his hand against Snart’s shoulder. “No, no. NO!” Mick clenched his jaw ”What did he do?” He whispered. “What the hell has he done?” Show yourself, you coward!”

His body was wracking with sobs. A small patch of scarlet blood had seeped through Snart’s jacket, revealing the wound Savage left. Ray stood, completely stunned. Rip gritted his teeth, running his hands through his hair. After a moment’s hesitation, Kendra came over to Mick and crouched down beside him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. 

“He’s gone.” Mick sputtered. “I...can’t believe he’s gone.” He shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut tighter, and leaned into her hug. “I’m sorry, Len. If I had been there...


	15. Spinning Like A Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last one for the night. Legion!Leonard again, hee.

Mick held the beer in his hand tightly. The room was spinning like a top, and his feet were most likely not on the ground. He felt dizzy...so dizzy. He felt sick. What was wrong with him? 

“I hope you don’t mind...but I made some adjustments to your beverage.” 

Snart. Mick reached out for what seemed to be the table. He could no longer feel the drink in his hand, and felt the vibration of it hitting the ground. The glass shattered, spreading out like marbles. Snart carefully stepped around it, placing a firm hand on Mick’s shoulder. Lowering himself down some, Snart leaned close to his ear. 

“I am sorry, Mick. But things were taking too long. We’ve got the spear. Come with me, and I can be here. We could be partners again.” 

Mick was too busy fighting unconscious to answer. He swallowed thickly, unable to keep himself from falling forward and dropping to the floor. Black specks appeared in his vision and colors danced in the corners of his eyes. He wrapped his arms around his abdomen, curling up against the floor the best he could. It felt as though someone was clawing through his stomach. Mick groaned, and looked up at Snart with bleary eyes. 

“Don’t worry, it shouldn’t last too long...if you’re still alive for the worst of it, well, I don’t know what to tell you.” Snart sent a vile smirk down at Mick, and casually stepped over him, making his way through the door. 

He gritted his teeth in agony as a violent shudder went through him, forcing him up on his hands and knees for several seconds. When he couldn’t stand to crouch in that position, he fell back. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and drenching his shirt. 

About an hour went by before Ray flew into the room, instantly falling on his knees beside Mick. But he wasn’t gonna start complaining. Mostly because he could barely breathe without a fresh rush of pain or nausea. The other reason was because he was slowly blacking out.

”Mick? MICK! Stay awake, come on. Mick...”

He sighed. It was just so hard. Too hard. It hurt so much. And the darkness, well, he had to admit, did seem somewhat inviting.


	16. Merry Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, he shouldn’t have.

“What’s this?”

Leonard stared at the small present in his hands. Fifteen minutes ago, Mick had been blowing up his phone with messages, practically begging for him to come over. After about ten minutes, Leonard was in his car and pulling into Mick’s driveway.

Now here they were. Leonard sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Mick turned on the stove, tossed a pot of water onto one of the burners, and brought out a large mug.

“Open it.” He replied simply. Leonard rolled his eyes. 

The present was actually kinda pretty(not that he’d admit to this). With the royal blue wrapping and small white snowflakes spread across the sides, it was obvious to Leonard that his partner had put a lot of work into it.  
He was almost tempted to ask how much money had gone into the wrapping paper alone. Not to mention the glossy white paint...it was also very obvious to him that the snowflakes had been hand-painted.

Leonard tore at the sides and opened it up. He sent an occasional glance up at Mick, who watched him eagerly. 

Oh, he should’ve known.  
“Cocoa mix, eh?” He smirked. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mick.”

There wasn’t a response at first. Suddenly, Mick’s breath was hot against his neck. Leonard tensed up but slowly relaxed.

“Mm,” he hummed in agreement. “You like it, boss?” 

“Yeah,” Leonard said. He ran his fingers down the side, pulling out a packet. “You got any marshmallows?”


	17. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't be startled by the fact that I'm practically updating every five minutes. I've got a ton of these things just sitting around.

Mick walked out towards the riverbanks, allowing his feet to guide him. He wasn’t sure where Sara had landed the Waverider. He wasn’t even sure if anyone had followed him. Not that anyone would. And not that he cared when or where they’d traveled to, either.

Any other day Mick wouldn’t really mind the cold. That’s what he told himself, anyway. But there was just something different about how the gentle breeze sent ripples over the water, or how the leaves fluttered to the ground. It almost made him feel...

Lonely.

He stared down at the lighter in his hand and ignored the way his eyes started to sting. He ran his fingers across the engraving.

’LS + MR’

It was cheesy, but he loved it. Leonard had given it to him as an early birthday present. He knew how much fire meant to Mick. Mick just wished Leonard knew how much he meant to him, too.

Too late now, Mick thought.

But he’d get better. With or without Leonard, Mick would get better. So with a newfound sense of courage, and a little bit of suppressed anger, Mick threw the lighter as far as he could.

Mick let his shoulders slump and watched the lighter disappear under the river’s surface. He could still feel their initials carved into the rusty metal. But he was getting better, one step at a time.


	18. Seeing Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even rogues get lonely sometimes.

The pen rattled against his notepad. He let his gaze flick to either side. Out of the corner of his eye, Mick could make out that slender frame. The blue parka. Those cold, somewhat alluring eyes...

Mick didn’t allow his gaze to linger. He continued to stare down at the notepad and play with the pen in his hand, repeatedly beating the ends against the paper. Eventually, he began to zone out. The fuzzier things got, the clearer Mick could see the way he paced around the room. 

He couldn’t let his attention wander. If he did that, he would disappear. No, Mick wouldn’t disappear, but he would. 

So he kept his eyes on the notepad. He kept fidgeting with the pen. He listened to the way it thrummed against the paper, and tried not to think too much about how the black and blue blur seemed to be coming closer, and closer, and closer..

A rather violent shiver ran down Mick’s spine as the ghost layed a hand on his shoulder, tracing his slender fingers down Mick’s arm. A shudder of excitement formed as a lump in his throat. Mick forcefully held his breath against the flutter in his chest. Goosebumps rose up across his entire body.   
He should’ve expected it to be chilly. His touch was always chilly. 

And he had a way of making Mick melt into it. 

He knew this wasn’t real. In the back of his mind, those thoughts constantly reminded him of this. Mick had grown accustomed to ignoring them, though. It It really wasn’t difficult. 

Mick couldn’t help but reach out and touch him back...he wanted that feeling again. He wanted to experience the sensation of Len’s arms wrapped around him. All he had to do was reach out and touch him.

He was grasping at thin air. In the back of his mind, he was also well aware of this. But it felt so real...what did it hurt to try? 

Everything. It hurt everything. Mick realized that he’d moved too quickly. But, of course, the realization hadn’t come fast enough, and as quickly as it had come, the ghost was gone. 

The sensation he longed for was left with a hollow ache in his chest. He was all alone once again.


	19. Early Days 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a couple in a little bit of a background thing I’d love to do. 
> 
> It also might be my last update for a couple of days, but I don’t know yet.

“Mick, I’m back!”   
Staggering in through the doorway, Leonard managed to set all of his items down on the counter without falling. Who knew groceries could be so heavy? He wasn’t about to take second trips, though. Not when it was pouring rain outside. When there was no response, Leonard ventured off farther into the kitchen.   
“Hey, where you at-“ 

There, sitting completely still in one of the chairs to their cheap dining room table, was Mick. He barely even flinched when Leonard flopped into the seat next to him, tilting his head only slightly. 

“Is that a..lighter?” 

“Yep.”

“So, what’re you doing, exactly?”

“I dunno.” Mick shrugged. “It’s pretty, though.” 

Leonard licked his lips and nodded, clearly confused. “Alright then. I’m gonna go start on dinner, I guess.” 

“Uh huh.” He hummed in reply, eyes still set on the flickering light.   
Getting to his feet, Leonard sent one last worried glance towards his brother. Such interesting behavior..maybe it was just a new hobby? Leonard could only hope so.


	20. Scars (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! Since I can’t watch PotO due to Netflix taking it down, I’m bringing you beautiful lot this instead.

It was a Saturday afternoon.

Well, according to Gideon it was. The night before, Mick had decided on going to bed a bit early. The girls, on the other hand(that being Sara, Amaya, and Zari; they’d even gotten Kendra to come over for a night just for this occasion), had decided Mick was long overdue for a good-natured prank. 

They painted Mick’s nails a fiery red, with a fluorescent orange on his ring fingers. 

To say the least, he was mortified. 

So there he sat at the table, letting out the occasional hiss every time a drop of rubbing alcohol got to close to a cut, scrubbing at his nails and frantically trying to remove the nail polish. 

Raymond came into the room a few minutes later, offering the pyro a small smile as he took the seat across from him. 

“Looks like they hit you pretty hard last night,” Raymond commented. Mick didn’t even reward his efforts at starting a conversation with an eye roll.

A few more minutes passed before Raymond spoke again. “Hey, uh, buddy?”

Mick gave a grunt of acknowledgment, looking up. 

“I was just wondering,” he scratched his head, doing his best to avoid Mick’s intense stare. “It’s just that I rarely ever see you without gloves. Not that it’s a bad thing or anything, I’m just curious why-“

“Haircut.” He growled. Raymond shut up immediately. 

Mick let out a heavy sigh and shifted around in his chair, his eyes cast back down at his hands. His scarred, cut up, bruised, bloody hands. 

“Len had made me wear them at one point. He said it was for my own safety when it came down to handling fire as I do. Besides,” his gaze softened, but only slightly. “After the fire...ah, I can barely feel ‘em anymore. What does it hurt to wear gloves, so nobody sees this mess?” 

“Wait,” Raymond’ gaped. “You can’t feel your hands?”

Mick chuckled at that. It came out as a dry, crackly sound. “I said I can barely feel them, Haircut.”

”Oh,” He nodded, embarrassed. “Right.” 

The two men fell silent. Mick had almost completely given up scrubbing at the nail polish, as he felt it wasn’t worth it in the end.

”Hey,” Mick finally said. He heaved himself up out of the chair, coming around to Raymond’s side. “Why don’t we start planning on what I’ll do to get back at ‘em?” 

That earned him an even bigger grin. Raymond nodded vigorously, giving Mick a pat on the shoulder as he ran to get a notebook and some pens. Mick began to follow after him. 

But paused.  
And reached for his gloves.


	21. Unrealistic Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place around the end of season two...in Doomworld, I believe. Legion!Len has made some adjustments, just for Mick and him.

“Where are you taking me again?” Mick asked for the umpteenth time, keeping his eyes locked on the concrete below him. Leonard sent an affectionate glance back at Mick and smiled, giving a small shake of his head. 

“As I said before, it’s a surprise.” He reached for the other man’s hand and drug him the rest of the way, stopping in front of a large house. “Here we are.” 

Mick furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, cocking his head to the side. “Er..what’s this? We stayin’ here or something?”

”Getting warmer.” Leonard hummed, unlocking the door.

With the spear now in the hands of the Legion(but mostly Eobard Thawne), Leonard had made quite an adjustment to their new lives. He’d made a mental note reminding himself to have Mick pull up his sleeves. Leonard just hoped they’d be a little more natural looking now. But the biggest surprise was yet to come. 

“So,” he continued to say, sending a large smile towards the ever-confused Mick. “What do you think?” 

Jerking out of his haze, Mick stared back at him. “About the house you mean?” Leonard nodded, his excitement starting to diminish. “I-I mean, it’s a great place, Len. No doubt.” He shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. “What’re we doing here, then?”

”C’mon, Mick, haven’t you figured it out yet?” Leonard forced a chuckle, gesturing towards the casual setup. “You and me. We live here now. Together. Just like you’ve always wanted it to be.”

The room fell into a stretched silence. After several long seconds, Mick swallowed. 

“Right?”

“Yeah.” He blinked once, twice, nodding slowly. “Right..I, uh, I just that...I need some time to get used to everything, y’know?” 

Leonard- who half scoffed, half sighed- mirrored his nod and raised his head, mouthing the words he couldn’t bring himself to say. His phone started to buzz; Eobard was summoning them.

”We should probably go see what he needs from us,” Leonard said. “I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” 

“Mm,” Mick answered stiffly. “Course not.” 

Leonard’s lips twitched up in an artificial smile for a split second. He forcibly turned his attention away from Mick and towards the door and pulled out a rusty set of keys. 

“Let’s go.”


	22. Naps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone likes naps. Not everyone likes waking up from naps, but that’s okay too.

The first thing my mind registered was its sense of touch. Then came sound. And smell. 

I was slung out across the couch in our old hideout. Their voices were faint, but I could’ve sworn that Leonard and Lisa were both there as well. Weren’t we back on the Waverider? How’d I get here? And why did I have such a bad headache? At least the pillow propping me up was pretty comfortable. It smelled like Len, too.

Scrunching my face in irritation, I dared not open my eyes to see what had woken me up in favor of trying to fall back asleep again. Thankfully nobody had taken any attention to me, yet. Maybe if I lie perfectly still...

”Go ahead and get the car warmed up, sis. Just be safe, and make sure to take your gun. I’m gonna go check on Mick real fast.”

Snart? Darn. Doesn't look like I was getting any more sleep anytime soon. I licked my lips, concentrating on what all happened before I fell unconscious. Nothing came to mind. Except for an image of Snart knocking me out.. Forcing my eyes open, my vision swam dizzily. How long had I been out? 

“Hey, sleepyhead. Finally decided to wake up, did ya?” 

I sent a drowsy smile up at Snart, suppressing a yawn. I might as well just roll with it. “Yeah. What time is it?”

Snart glanced down at his watch, humming softly. “Um..8:37. A.M., if you were wondering.” He pressed a cool hand to my forehead, sporting a concentrated face. “Manage to get some rest?” 

“Yep.” I nodded and leaned into his touch. It felt nice...I was starting to get a little hot. After a minute I made the unconscious decision of saving all those odd questions that popped up for later. Just enjoying some time with Leonard as we had before time travel and all that crap would be nice. We had a lot to catch up on...and we had all day to do just that. I never had such an awesome nap before!


	23. Partners?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the best dynamic duos have quarrels.

“You mean WE own half the city, Mick. Come on,” Leonard cocked his head to the side, bringing out a free hand to take his goggles off. Mick didn’t move. Immediately sensing the tension in his partner’s muscles, Leonard tried to rest a hand on his shoulder. “We’re partners, after all. Aren’t we?” 

A simple growl to warn him away was all it took. Leonard pulled back, feeling a bit chastised. He didn’t even remember the last time Mick had been so stuff like this. Reluctantly taking a few steps off to the side, Leonard sighed. Sure, this was Doomworld, and the Spear wasn’t exactly in their immediate possession, but they were back together. They were partners again. And they practically ruled over Central City. The town was theirs now. Isn’t that what Mick wanted? Wasn’t that their plan all along? 

‘You know what I want from this world...’

‘Yes. To see it burn.’

Maybe that’s what was wrong. Maybe Mick’s pyromania was getting to him again. Maybe he was itching to burn something? Just like old times? But along with old times, Mick would always tell him about this stuff...Leonard was Mick’s safe place. Someone to confide in. Wasn’t he? They’d always told each other everything..right? They were never just partners. Mick was his best friend. A brother to Leonard. When did that change? 

“Yeah...” He murmured. “Partners.” Without another word, Mick raised his head and walked on. Leonard knew better than to follow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Legion!Len for the readers.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, my favorite hobby? That would have to be breaking my reader’s hearts with words and cringeyness.

A throbbing pain had started in the back of Mick’s head. He involuntarily winced, groaning softly. He was back on the Waverider, in the med bay. He could tell by the scent flowing around him, and the soft sounds coming from a set of computers. Did Snart put him in here?

Forcing open heavy eyelids, everything came as a blur to Mick. He tried blinking a couple of times before turning to face the fuzzy blob beside him.

”Hey, big guy. You’re awake.” Haircut, Mick guessed. Snart must’ve been busy somewhere else. “How are you feeling?”

Staring back at him through glazed eyes, Mick tried to recall just what had happened. The Oculus had blown up, he knew. Was Rip still here? Or wasn’t it Haircut that had been the one to hold down those stick things? But Haircut was beside him. And where was Snart, exactly? 

“I’m fine.” It was probably smart to just stay seated. Mick was still feeling a bit dizzy. “Got me on meds or somethin’?” 

“I do.” Raymond replied softly, clasping a hand over his shohlder. ”Anti-nausea, painkillers, other things...the usual.” He tried a reassuring smile but failed miserably. ”Are you hungry?”

Surprisingly, he didn’t feel very hungry. ”Nah.” Mick rested his head back, closing his eyes. He tried to concentrate, but his headache just kept getting worse. So much for the Tylenol. 

He awkwardly pulled his arm away, laying it down over his chest. Suddenly feeling a dash of instinct, Mick reach inside his pocket and found...  
Snart’s ring. 

“I don’t know how much you remember, but,” Ray took a deep breath. His voice was low and tender, gaze soft. “Leonard is... dead. I am so sorry, Mick.” 

Realization formed like a lump in his throat. Mick swallowed hard, looking away from Ray so he wouldn’t see his futile efforts in trying not to cry. Fear and panic rose up in his chest. 

“What?”

At that point in time, for once in his life, Ray didn’t know what to say. He bit his lip, taking to an act of physical comfort instead. He ran a hand down Mick’s arm and stayed quiet. It was still unclear to him whether Mick needed a few minutes alone or not. 

When the pyro didn’t move to stop him from standing, Ray made a mental note for times like these, and started for the door. “Rip wants to see us all in the bridge. No hurry, though. Just take your time. We’ll wait for you.”

Ray slowly walked out of the room, leaving Mick to his own thoughts and the comforting silence left behind.


	25. Scars (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mick and Raymond brainstorm some ideas on how to get back at the girls, Raymond decides to confront Mick about wearing his gloves.

When Ray heard Mick come into his bedroom, he was surprised to find that the older man had put his gloves back on. He stifled a sigh and gestures to an empty spot beside him on his bed. 

Mick poked his head outside the door and looked around for any onlookers before shutting it and ambling towards the bed. 

“So,” he said, “have you come up with anything so far?” 

Ray stared at the blank notebook in front of him. It took all the strength that he had not to look at Mick’s gloved hands. Ever since their little chat in the kitchen, which hadn’t been long ago, Ray couldn’t stop thinking about Mick’s hands. Those scarred hands...

“Haircut.” Ray looked up, jerked from his thoughts. Mick was staring at him intently.

“Sorry,” he stammered. “Um, what about making something for them? Like chili?

“Hm. Chili?” Mick raised an eyebrow. “I dunno if I could pull that off.”  
He grabbed one of the pens Ray had supplied and wrote it down anyway. 

Ray watched him quietly. A knot had started to form in the pit of his stomach. He leaned back against the wall, watching Mick furiously jot stuff down. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He said. Mick grunted in response.  
Even though Mick wasn’t actually looking at him, Ray felt strangely vulnerable. “Why do you wear your gloves all the time? If you’re not working with fire, then what is the point in using them?” 

Mick looked up from his writing and dropped the pen. He seemed to ponder over Ray’s question. “They’re comforting.” 

Comforting.  
Without another word, Ray reached for Mick’s wrist.  
“May I..?” He whispered meeting Mick’s eyes. Mick didn’t protest. So with shaky hands he tugged on the fingers of the glove and slowly pulled it off, revealing the distortion limb that lay hidden inside of it. 

In the light of the kitchen it had looked awful, but here, in his room, with just the two of them, the scars on his hands didn’t seem all that gruesome.

Ray ran his fingers across Mick’s palm, applying gentle pressure in different areas. “Can you feel this?” 

“A little.” 

He rubbed a spot near his thumb, looking over the work that the flames had left on Mick’s hands. “You know, these scars kinda make you look big and scary. They fit you.”

His only answer was a soft grunt. 

“You know Mick, while the gloves are a nice touch to your outfit, you don’t have to wear them around us. Whether or not you have scars on your hands doesn’t matter.” He chuckled softly. “We aren’t called heroes for a reason, you know.”

“Cause what band of misfits and outcasts would be called heroes, anyway?” Mick laughed as well. “Thanks for that, haircut. It was cheesy,” he winked, “but it was...nice.” 

Ray beamed. “Really?” 

“Yeah, really.” Mick twisted himself around on the bed until he was sitting beside Ray with his back against the wall. “But don’t tell anyone I said that or else-“

“You’ll shave my head? Got it.”

They sat in silence, ultimately enjoying each other's company until Mick let out a huge sigh and said, “Enough with all the heartfelt crap, let’s get on with how we’re gonna get back at those girls.”


	26. The Making of Chronos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When life gives you lemons, upload fanfics to help you forget about the lemons. 🍋

Almost everyone on the ship has asked me at least once about what exactly they had done to turn me into Chronos. I always have some cliche excuse as to why I can’t tell them, but, it’s obviously not why I tend to keep this stuff private. 

Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I don’t trust them with it or anything. I know now that I can trust them, and that they trust me. It’s taken a while to get to that point, but I’m finally there. It’s just that...well, with how I reacted to it, I’m sure their reactions would be ten times worse, if not more. 

I was absolutely petrified the entire way through. What they had shown me, or should I say what memories they decided to bring back up, were bad enough that sometimes, it keeps me up at night. 

You still wanna hear about em? Well, be my guest. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

 

Time seemed to stand still for ages after Snart had left me out there. I was slowly losing my mind, and I knew it. 

About what was probably around a week later, a large ship landed a few feet away from me. It looked a lot like the Waverider, but I told my mind not to be fooled by appearance. 

The minutes passed, and the ship didn’t move. For a second I told myself it was pointless waiting for someone and that Snart’s plans for me were most likely to leave me here to die, and after a long moment of hesitation I almost went along with it. 

My train of thought was interrupted by several men in dark robes scrambling down a platform. They moved swiftly, yet in a decently mannered way. They came over to where I was hunched under a tree, finishing off what measly scraps of meat I was able to find, and silently started pulling me over to their “time-ship.”

We entered a dark room, when suddenly, I decided I didn’t like the firm grip they had on my forearms. Emitting a low growl, I threw my full weight at the man to my left, catching him off-guard. He yelped in surprise, and struggled to get out from under me. 

The man on my right immediately tried to pry me away from him, pulling out what looked like a shot of some sort. But before he could do anything else, a booming voice sounded over the chaos I was making. 

“ENOUGH.” The voice cried, catching my attention. 

I turned to see another man, but one who was much older, and a little taller. I knew I wouldn’t like him. 

“You must be Mick.” The man smiled, extending a hand. I simply glared at him, warily backing away from the strange man. “Oh, don’t be afraid. I know you’ve been through a lot, but we’re not going to hurt you. In fact, we only want to help you.”

I had paused for a moment. “Who are you?” 

“You’ll find that out eventually,” the man replied curtly. “But for now, I have some big plans for you, Mick. Or should I say... Chronos?” 

Suddenly the meal from earlier didn’t seem very appetizing. 

 

An hour had passed, and in that time I was now strapped to a chair. They told me it was apart of their “big plan,” but I wasn’t buying it. But I didn’t exactly have a way out right now, so I'd just have to deal with it. 

Another new person, this time a lady wearing the same black robes, came over. She was carrying a cup which seemed to be holding some sort of strange liquid inside. I didn’t trust its contents, but I didn’t want to make anyone angry, so I decided on going with whatever she told me to do. 

“Drink this.” She ordered. 

I simply nodded, taking the cup. The liquid was a velvety, bubbling substance, with a putrid odor to it. It took a huge effort to keep myself from gagging. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and downed it, screwing my eyes in disgust. 

The lady said nothing. She grabbed the cup and left the room. As soon as she walked out, the strange man from before came in. 

“Get these machines running,” he told his companions, “I want this started as soon as possible. And you.” He gestured towards me. “This shouldn’t hurt too bad...I think.” 

Before I had the chance to answer, the machines whirred, and everything went black. 

 

I felt strong hands grip my throat as I was slammed down into a chair, and tied to the back. 

Oh no, I thought. Please, not this one...

I could feel the burning sensation the ropes left as I tugged against them, desperately trying to free myself and save my sister. My breathing was ragged and labored, while hot tears ran down my face. 

“Dad, please.” I begged. “She’s done nothing wrong. Don’t do this.” But saying that only earned me a hard slap across the face. 

“She may not have done anything wrong, but you certainly have.” He snarled into my ear, and went on with holding my sister down. “Maybe this’ll teach you to be more careful next time.” 

I couldn’t watch. Closing my eyes, my heart rose into my throat, and dropped down to my feet with that single gunshot. 

As soon as it went off, I opened my eyes to see a house in flames. My feet were glued to the ground, and my eyes were stuck on the growing fire rising higher and higher into the sky. The putrid smell of smoke filled my lungs, and the faint sound of screams filled my ears until it was a deafening sound. The violent stench of burning skin hung in the air, resting on my tongue. I could feel the bile rising in the back of my throat as I quickly came back to my senses...

 

Panting, I only had a second to look around the room at all of the shocked faces. Tears were streaming down my face as I jerked to the side of the chair, and vomited. 

The lady from before rushed over, offering some support. Once I had finished, I leaned back in the chair, clenching my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut. 

“Please,” I whispered. “No more...”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My heart aches. For them.

Snart didn’t care. He didn’t care that Mick had just been under the Time Master’s influence. He didn't care if they’d just gotten past one of the biggest fights they had ever experienced with each other. He didn’t care that, for the time being, they were supposed to be keeping their distance from him. Who knows what would happen. He didn’t care that the team would most likely give him a strict scolding about going past these rules and boundaries, but he didn’t care. 

He could hear his friend’s cries getting louder as he neared, and for a second, his mind was overtaken by anger. If the Time Masters hadn’t gone and used him as their replaceable guinea pig, Mick wouldn’t be having such terrible nightmares. He knew for a fact that this was something Mick went through from the day of the accident back when he was young, and knew from the experience of staying up all night just so he could help Mick fall back asleep that these weren’t your ordinary bad dreams. 

Bursting through the door, he slammed down on the futuristic button that held what they called the brig closed. The second mechanic door opened with a hiss, alerting Mick of his presence. His friend was too shaken up to notice. 

Almost instantly, Snart dropped to his knees beside him, bringing him close and whispering words of comfort to him. Mick’s body wracked with uncontrollable sobs, leaving him to clutch helplessly at Snart’s chest. 

“Len...” He shuddered, struggling to make any sense. “I...they, they showed me...” He gave out, his wails getting more unsteady, and his faint voice coated in tears. 

“Shh...it’s ok. It’s over now, don’t worry. They won’t hurt you, alright?” Snart soothed his partner, brushing a soft hand down his shoulder. “Do you want me to stay with you?” 

A nod. 

Snart gingerly pushed himself closer to the wall, getting in a more comfortable position, and helped Mick lay back down on the make-shift bed, offering him his coat. 

Mick gratefully took it, placing it over his hands, and allowed himself to relax. He focused his mind on Snart’s voice, and the brotherly bond they shared, and slowly fell back asleep. 

“Don’t worry,” Snart whispered, “I’m right here. Those nightmares won’t bother you while I’m here. I promise.”


	28. (SickFic) Wednes-Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little SickFic and fluff for all of you readers out there...

It was a Wednesday morning. Quite early, to be honest. For Mick, at least. But not too early. 

Leonard was busy cooking up breakfast the best he could. He and Lisa both knew that Mick was the main cook in the house; the man had unbelievable talent when it came to cooking. They’d tried to crack him several times before, and find out where exactly he’d learned to cook so well. Mick never told them. Occasionally, Leonard would pull a few tricks and try to get him to open up, but nothing ever worked. Not yet, at least. 

Speaking of Mick, he’d finally gotten up out of bed and came into the kitchen, looking rather unwell. Leonard watched as he shuffled over to the table, head hung low and shoulders slumped and slid into the nearest chair. He was probably just tired, Leonard assured himself. After all, they’d had a pretty rough week. 

And that was exactly why Leonard had decided to take a break from all the robbing for a day. They needed a break. Mick especially, from what he’d pieced together. Leonard decided to keep an eye on his partner. 

After a few minutes with no good-morning-grunt, Leonard tossed a glance over his shoulder and just barely caught sight of the way Mick was falling asleep on the table. He ignored the way his stomach twisted and churned, pushing the anxiety to the back of his mind. 

“Mick.” 

Almost immediately, Mick jerked up in his chair, instantly alert. “Wh-What? What happened?” 

That earned a small smile from Leonard. “Feeling sluggish today?” He teased. He walked over to Mick, pressing his partner’s forehead against his cheek. “You’re pretty warm, Mick.” Leonard murmured, and ran a gentle hand down Mick’s temple.

Mick closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. A low hum rumbled in the back of his throat as he relished Leonard’s cool skin against his own. 

“Maybe you should get back to bed, Mick,” Leonard advised. “Get some more rest. I’ll bring you something for the fever.” 

Mick gave a soft grunt in response, rose up from the chair, and slowly made his way back to his bedroom, wobbling on his feet every now and then. Leonard was right there to steady him and helped Mick under a thin set of sheets after they’d gotten to the bed. 

“Can you stay with me till I fall asleep?” Mick slurred, staring up at Leonard through glazed, sleepy eyes. 

It’s probably just the fever talking, Leonard thought to himself but didn’t refuse. I’m sure he’ll be feeling better by tomorrow or so.

“Alright.” He said and gestured towards the other side of the bed. Mick shifted over, giving Leonard plenty of room to slide in beside him. 

Once they were both settled in, he shifted back to Leonard’s side and relaxed, letting out a heavy sigh of contentment. Mick let his head rest on Leonard’s chest as Leonard rubbed his back, occasionally moving down some so that his cheek was pressed against Mick’s forehead. 

After fifteen minutes like this, Mick’s eyelids started to droop. Leonard listened to the way his partner’s breaths grew deeper and more regulated, soon coming to find that Mick was fast asleep.

For a split second, Leonard started to think back on how Mick was not only asleep but also sick. He’d need to fix that, get his partner the right medications, and make sure that fever went away, if not down a few degrees. He hadn’t even checked it yet. A fresh new bout of worrying washed over him. But Leonard mentally willed it away. Mick would be just fine...besides, he was starting to feel a little tired himself.

 

If someone were to walk into that room thirty minutes later, they would find both Mick and Leonard asleep in each other’s arms, catching up on some much-needed rest.


	29. Saying Goodbye To A Lonely Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saying goodbye is never easy. But when you have a friend like Ray, it takes some of the pressure. A bit angsty.

It was practically traditional that they all got together and celebrate after a big win. The Dominators had been quite a hassle over the years, along with Earth X’s nazis at one point. And it was practically a tradition for Ray, Cisco, and sometime’s Felicity to get together and talk science. With that being said, it really was no surprise that at one end of the room stood Ray, talking with Cisco, having a drink, and simply enjoying himself.

In a corner towards the back, Mick was set on being a wallflower (not that anyone would ever approach him, anyways). He stared down at his own unopened beer, shoulders hunched and muscles tense. It was a wonder he could feel so alone in a room filled with so many people. 

After a minute, Mick gained enough courage to go over and talk to Ray. 

 

Ray never realized that Mick had come up behind him until the pyro placed a large, surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey.” He acknowledged the man with a smile, which quickly faded when Mick didn’t answer. “What’s up?” 

“I, uh, I wanted to talk, if you got time,” Mick answered him, sending a glance towards the only bathroom on the Waverider. Ray nodded in understanding. 

“Got it.” He gave Mick’s shoulder and assuring pat and told Cisco he’d be back in a few minutes. Once Ray was finished, Mick guided him towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

When Mick was sure the door had been locked, and they were both alone, Ray sat them down on the edge of the bathtub and listened to what Mick had to say. 

“It’s okay,” he’d told Mick, after seeing how nervous he was. “You can tell me anything.” 

“Alright.” Mick sat up straight and took a deep breath. “Where do I start? I...wasn’t planning on tellin’ the rest of the team cause they’d make a big deal out of it, but I think my time as a hero has come to its end for me.”

“Wait, what?” Ray’s eyes widened with shock. Having gotten an irritated look from him, Ray suddenly remembered what Mick had said about making a big deal out of it. He blushed and forced himself to relax. “Sorry.” I just never thought I’d hear those words from you. But what makes you want to leave-“

“The team, Haircut!” Mick snapped. “I have had enough of this team. I don’t fit in. Snart is dead. I don’t have anything here anymore.” 

The words stung. At least Mick knew that he could confide in him, Ray reminded himself.  
“Mick,” he thought over his words carefully. “I get what you’re feeling. Trust me, I’ve been there. And I know that sometimes, me included, we underestimate you. We haven’t always treated you as an equal in the past and I see that now. I’m sorry, Mick. Just give us a chance to make it right, and I’ll make sure we will.” 

Ray held his breath, watching and waiting for an answer as Mick seemed to scan the floor. A small smirk began to form on Mick’s lips. He nudged Ray in the shoulder with a chuckle, then looked him in the eyes. 

“That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard come out of you, Haircut.” 

“Really?” Ray’s face dropped. 

He pondered it for a moment. “Well, not quite.” The playful light in his eyes had faded. “Not cheesy enough, I’m afraid.” 

“You’re still leaving.” 

“I dunno yet.” Mick shrugged. “Like I said, lost my partner. There’s not much left for me here. I miss Central City.” He sighed, then added quietly, “And I miss him, Raymond.”

Ray nodded in understanding. Mick was still grieving. “Well, Mick, whatever you end up deciding, I’ll be there to support you all the way.” 

Mick flashed him a grateful smile. “I know you would. Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company. Eventually, Ray broke the silence.  
“If you do leave, are you sure you don’t want to go out on a high note? I’m sure the team would love to say a few goodbye first.” 

“Nah.” Mick wrapped him in a tight hug, resting his head against Ray’s shoulder. “I’m not that good at saying goodbye. Besides, I’d be back soon enough.”

”Not soon enough for me. I hope you take good care of yourself, Mick.” Ray said, smiling widely. “And make sure to eat plenty of vegetables, get enough rest, and drink lots of water.” 

Mick couldn’t help but burst out into laughter. “You got it.”


	30. A/N

Hello readers! I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m going on a little hiatus for a week or two, due to family coming in. I’ll be back with an update soon!  
As always, thanks for reading. <3


	31. Pryo Addict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, it has been way too long. I’ve brought along a bit of later years teen! Mick and Len for you guys. Hope y’all like it.

Sirens blared in the distance. In the passenger’s seat, a man shouted incoherent directions into his coms, demanding that backup would be present in a 10-mile radius should anything go wrong. He looked over at the driver, who’s eyes were glued to the one thing in front of him: 

Leonard Snart, going 80 in a 35 mile zone. 

 

Leonard checked his side mirrors for the fiftieth time, thinking quickly. He and Mick had just gotten out of jail. If those cops caught up to him now, they would likely take him back to the slammer without sparing a glance at his driver’s license.

The license that he definitely has in his pocket. 

He flew through half a dozen red lights before wrestling his phone out of his pocket. Turning a corner, Leonard barely registered the sign in front of his car before he was plowing through it. 

“Dead end,” he read softly, catching a glimpse from the mirror. “That’s not good.” 

Nothing was ever good. He obviously wasn’t a good enough driver. His dad wasn’t a very good father figure. (Heck, the guy was a monster. If it weren’t for him, he and Lisa wouldn’t be in this mess.) His record wasn’t good. After a week or so, the few measly groceries he managed to snag when no one was looking wouldn’t be good anymore. 

And then the whole process would start all over again. Him, bolting to the car. The cops, hot on his heels. And Mick, sitting at the small apartment they called home, watching to make sure Lisa didn’t try to run away. 

Leonard was tired of living like this. He was tired of hiding from his father. But until they got older, until he and Mick could properly defend themselves, this was the way things needed to be. 

It occurred to him that the once obnoxiously loud sirens flashing behind him had faded. He risked a glance over his shoulder, just to be sure. At any minute there could be a cop waiting to pull out in front of him, he thought grimly. Then it would be over. 

Of course, this never happened. Leonard pulled into an old neighborhood. He came to a stop in front of a tall, 2-story home. The landlord that owned the place had landed in the hospital, battling cancer. 

He cringed at the thought. What a horrible, horrible way to die. 

At only seventeen, Leonard had a lot to learn. His father taught him most things, most of which consisted of his fists by day and a few beer bottles by night. But he learned well.   
He found out pretty quickly that a man with a criminal record didn’t get a decent job as easy as someone else would. But he learned how to cope with it. His father was quite the teacher. 

“Mick, Lisa, I’m back!” 

Leonard staggered into the house, managing to set all of his items down on the counter without falling. He made it just in time. Thunder rumbled overhead. 

“Lenny!” Lisa cried. She rushed towards him, swinging her arms around him in a tight hug. “You’re back! What did you find?” 

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, not a whole bunch. Just...these.” Reaching into one of the bags, Leonard pulled out a pair of ice skates. “I know you’ve been talking about them for a while. I guess you could say it’s an early birthday present.” 

Lisa squealed with delight. She grabbed the ice skates from him and sighed.  
“Oh, thank you!” She said, then ran off to her bedroom and slammed the door. 

Leonard smiled with delight. A moment later, he noticed that Mick hadn’t come out yet. 

“Mick! Where’d you go?” He called. When there was no response, he heaved the rest of the groceries over his shoulder and ventured past the kitchen. 

He looked to his left, scanning the rocking chair for any huge mass covered from head to toe in blankets, then to his right, where his and Mick’s bedroom sat, in between both the only bathroom and Lisa’s own private quarters. 

Approaching their bedroom carefully, as if afraid to wake up a sleeping beast, Leonard reached out and grasped the doorknob. 

Leonard cleared his throat.  
“Anyone home?” He said, poking his head through the doorway. 

There, sitting completely still in front of the small desk pushed in the corner of his room, was Mick. He barely flinched when Leonard dragged a seat over and flopped into it. 

Leonard tilted his head. Mick hadn’t looked over at him. It was almost like Mick didn’t even notice he was there. But there was an object in his hand. With closer inspection, Mick realized that it was a lighter. 

“What are you doing?” 

Mick jumped in surprise. He flicked the lighter shut and pocketed it, only then facing Leonard. Mick looked tired, he thought. 

“What?” 

Leonard narrowed his eyes. “What’s with the lighter?” 

“What do you mean?” He rubbed his face. His eyes were glassy. 

“Have you been smoking again?” Leonard accused. It had been a few months since Mick quit smoking. Leonard had requested of him that it be a thing done only when they were in jail. If something happened, they couldn’t just waltz into the nearest hospital like nothing. 

Mick met his gaze. “No.” He grunted. 

“Then what’s with the lighter-“

“Can you just shut up?” Mick snapped, rising to his feet. “Let me explain.” 

Leonard licked his lips and nodded, holding his hands out in defense. “Alright then. Explain away.” 

He hummed in reply. “It’s...pretty. I like to watch it flicker.” He showed him the lighter to demonstrate. “I don’t know, it’s soothing.” 

Leonard watched the flames dance and sway. As innocent as it seemed, he felt an uneasy gnawing in the pit of his stomach.   
What could be so special about the fire, anyway?

“Can you come help me make dinner?” He rose up out of his own chair. “You know what I’m like in the kitchen.” 

“Yeah.” Mick smirked. “I do.” 

As they were walking out of the bedroom, the minor heated moment forgotten, Leonard couldn’t help glancing back at the lighter. Mick had left it set on the desk, still open. Still flickering. 

He shuddered. If they weren’t careful, this could turn into an unhealthy habit. Leonard knew it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I didn’t go over this chapter in its entirety.


	32. Playing With Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something short and...not so sweet.

Nothing but silence lingered in the dark room, with the shades drawn and the lights turned down low. Leonard’s shoulders gaze the slightest of movement towards the man behind him. It was rather foolish of him to hold his back towards his old criminal partner, but at the time he didn’t quite have a choice. 

Recruiting Mick had its pros and cons. For one, Mick acted out the “meathead” phase well. But under the brawn and short-tempered outburst, Leonard could see the gears in his brain. He knew better. Mick wasn’t stupid. He had the ability to become something better if he tried hard enough. He was strong. 

Plus, Mick trusted him. Yet his tendency to get out of hand wasn’t something to be ignored. It was the reason they had gone their separate ways in the first place. 

And here he was, several years later, despite all that had occurred in the past. If he was here now, Leonard was sure that he could take on anything Mick would throw his way later on. 

He could work with it. He would find a way around it, Leonard knew he could. Consequently, could and would were two different words with different meanings.  
Forcing all doubts to the back of his mind, he started off in a gentler tone. Hopefully the offer he was making would be enough to satisfy the man’s passionate desires for pyrotechnics. With the guns he had, there should be no reason for Mick to turn him down. 

“I know it’s been a while since we pulled that job. I know it didn’t go so well for you.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “And I know I said we were finished, but things have changed..if I’m gonna keep working in central city, I’m gonna need a new kind of crew. I’m gonna need someone like you.” 

Bringing a black leather suitcase out to sit in front of the man, Leonard inwardly winced at the visible patches running up Mick’s neck. The faint sunlight gleaming through the cracks he didn’t manage to cover made it even worse. He’d get used to that, Leonard was sure. Either way, he really didn’t have a choice. 

Mick eyed him warily. He blinked, turning his gaze to the case that sat between them. Leonard could’ve sworn that, through the tense silence existing between them, he heard a soft, inhuman growl come from Mick. 

So maybe he didn’t trust Leonard as much as Leonard originally thought he did. He still took the chance and tried to sway the man, still treading carefully. 

“You’re tolerant of extremes, you have certain skills...you just need some direction. And I can give that to you.”

The faint sound of a match being lit reminded Leonard- once again -of what he’d be dealing with when recruiting him.

He noticed the way Mick’s eyes widened with unmasked interest when he saw what was inside. Mick drew the match light the whole way across the gun’s surface, giving a soft grunt of approval. Ecstasy grew in the pit of Leonard’s stomach. Surely he had his best interests now. 

“You still like playing with fire?” Leonard smirked. Oh, what was he about to get himself into? “You’re gonna love this.”

The tension in the room still ran high as Leonard watched him draw out the new handheld blowtorch, knowing that at any second he could easily burn down the whole building. He believed for a fact that Mick must still be a little bitter over what had happened; of course, he couldn’t blame him. He just hoped that past grudges didn’t hinder such a fair offer.

It was an accident, Leonard reminded himself. He decided to press his offer. 

“So..are you in, Mick? Or are you out?” 

Mick gave deep, throaty chuckle in response, setting the gun down carefully.  
“Yeah, buddy. I’m in.”


	33. Battered Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mick visits his father and things don’t go as planned.

Oh, Len.

He really should’ve listened to him. But how could he, when Leonard would just shoot down his ideas, thwart his plan? 

He just needed a bit of space. And that need turned into a habit, and that habit turned into anger. No matter the case, what bothered him was that Leonard hadn’t said a word to him edgewise. No calm hand coming to rest on his shoulder, no comments made from utter concern. 

Nothing.

Life on the Waverider was already uncomfortable for him. He didn’t need his only companion skimping out on him, too. He should have never agreed to join Leonard on that tin can floating through the sky by just sheer luck. It was changing them.

For better or for worse, Mick added with a huff. 

The growing strain in their relationship had been doubled furthermore when Mick brought up the subject. Mick was fine with that. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he actually cared whether or Leonard went with him. Besides, he was probably better off alone. 

Or at least, that’s what Mick thought. And now Mick’s partner was back on the Waverider, completely unaware of the fact that he was, most likely, going to die. 

Grunting in pain, Mick lashed out a fist at the man in front of him. His knuckles split from contact, causing a fresh coat of scarlet liquid to dash across the kitchen cupboards.

Blood was dripping into his eyes from a deep gash on his forehead. He couldn’t see. Oh lord, he couldn’t see. 

He swung a few hefty punches, grinning triumphantly when the third hit collided with a resonating crack. The man who had been clutching onto his jacket just a minute ago staggered backwards, giving Mick enough time to wipe his eyes clean. 

The little house itself hadn’t changed much, from what he recalled. The ugly tiles his mother would complain about were still there, much to his annoyance; he could see that the cabinet doors he remembered from when he was younger were different. They seemed to be rotting in several areas. It was as if they were on the verge of collapsing, should anyone put too much weight in them. 

He was fiercely brought back to the present when his head head collided with the wall. Stars danced across his eyes. He clenched his teeth in agony. 

Why had he even come here in the first place? As much as it hurt him to admit, he should have listened to Leonard. Mick’s world was beginning to spiral into a painful pit of darkness. The only thing that kept him awake was the thought of returning to Leonard, battered and bruised, and for once in his life willingly allowing Leonard to take care of him. 

He felt strong hands wrapping around his shoulders, lowering him to the ground. 

“First you barge into my home, then you have the nerve to start beating me up! Can’t a man defend his place without you fighting him over it?” 

Mick swore he tasted the pungent scent of whiskey that rolled off the man’s breath. This was a bad idea. 

“What do you think you’re doing, snooping around on my property?”  
He demanded. “Tryna steal something, I bet!” 

Mick forced himself to his feet and glared at his father. He licked his lips, wincing at the sudden sting. So his old man gave him a bloody nose and a busted lip. Leonard would have been furious, he thought viciously. What else could go wrong? 

“I-“ His words were cut off by a blow to the stomach. He keeled over, pressing a hand to his abdomen. While preoccupied, his father reached behind a countertop and pulled out a handheld gun. 

The gun itself wasn’t loaded, but Mick knew that if he hung around any longer it would be. Then he’d be trudging back to the Waverider with a broken nose, busted lip, and a bullet wound. 

“Save it. Just get out of here before I call the cops on you, boy.”

 

 

Back on the Waverider, Leonard’s mind was raging fitfully. His partner had been gone for days, and he was getting worried.

When Mick first told Leonard about the plan he concocted to sneak away during a mission and go visit his father, Leonard had been taken aback. What could have possibly triggered the urge to go and see that man. The past was the past. Mick out of all people understood that. Why would he want to alter it now? 

The shock he felt must have been obvious, because after a long pause, Mick was outraged. They fought like lions over the idea, going on for days on end. But by the third evening without an agreement, Leonard backed down. 

He had originally heard the edge in Mick’s voice, took the hint, and let off. But it had been a couple of weeks now. Leonard barely even saw his partner’s face anymore. So when the door to the Waverider’s brig opened with a hiss, and Mick came through, he could barely believe his eyes. 

A few hours ago, Leonard had gotten comfortable for the long time that they’d be there. He pulled out a deck of cards, bringing a smirk to Sara’s face. It was a perfect way to pass the time. 

Minutes flew by. They turned to hours, and soon enough the two had gone through several different card games, each time ending with either Leonard or Sara’s eyes filling with mischief as they held up the winning card. 

But when Mick came in, Leonard dropped his cards. He ignored the confused look Sara gave him. 

He caught himself staring at Mick. 

Like usual, his partner said nothing, and kept his head held low while slowly ambling back to his own personal chambers.

Leonard pressed his lips together in a firm line. Even with how hard Mick made it to catch his eye, Leonard easily spotted the dark red lines stricken across either side of Mick’s face. Dark circles had formed under Mick’s eyes. 

As much as it hurt to do so, Leonard didn’t move. He stayed still as a statue, wavering only when he was out of view of his partner. While Mick retreated back to his quarters, tension hung in the air. Leonard didn’t dare stand up until the next set of doors shut behind Mick, and his outline disappeared behind the wall between them.

He tried to return his thoughts to his cards, but Sara’s piercing gaze somehow kept him from putting his full attention towards the game at hand.

“I think,” she began, pulling a Queen from the pile, “that you should go talk to him. He looks like he needs a friend.” 

“Anyone on this ship could be considered a friend.” Leonard shot back, eyeing the hallway warily, as though at any point in time, something might jump out. 

When he reached for another card, Sara stopped him. She held his hand in place until he met her eyes, exasperated. 

“You know what I mean.” She said. Leonard rolled his eyes, snatching his hand away. A card was tucked between his fingers. 

“What makes you think I should be the one to go consult him?” Leonard scoffed. “Mick is a big boy. He can take care of himself.” 

By then, Sara decided she’d heard enough. She snatched Leonard’s cards away and grabbed her own, tucking them neatly inside her shirt. 

A gentle blush creeped up the sides of Leonard’s neck. He turned away, both defeated and embarrassed. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll go talk to him.”

 

 

Leonard was nearing Mick’s door. Nothing could describe the cold feeling of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach. He mentally waved away any form of doubt and paused. After all the recent events, what was he supposed to say? 

Should he apologize? Or should he be upset? 

He shook his head and stood tall. It was only Mick. Why was he so worried? 

Rapping his knuckles against the door, Leonard waited for a response. None came. He tried again, harder this time. If Mick didn’t open the door soon, he would have to go with plan B: barge in and hope that his presence didn’t set Mick off. 

“Mick.” He called out forlornly, half expecting to receive an answer. “Mick, open the door. I... wanted to talk.” 

There was no reply. Leonard was starting to feel agitated. 

“Alright, I’m coming in. But you better have clothes on.” 

At a single command, Gideon opened the doors for him. Leonard was shocked to see that Mick wasn’t there. He looked around, double checking the bench press and Mick’s closet, but didn’t dare step in any farther than the doorway. 

“You can come in, I won’t bite.” 

The sound of Mick’s voice startled him. It was soft and hoarse, unlike the loud, gravelly voice he was used to hearing. Leonard’s heart seemed to flutter in his chest. It was an odd sound, all right, but he didn’t truly mind hearing it. 

“I, ah, wanted to make sure you were okay.” He began, forcing past the lump in his throat. It felt like they hadn’t talked for ages, let alone a few weeks. But it was more-so like rejection than it was isolation, Leonard thought. 

“I’m fine.” He snapped his head around so that he was facing Leonard. The cold and hungry look in his eyes concerned Leonard, but it was the least of his worries. The visit to his dad’s house quite obviously didn’t go as Mick planned. 

Leonard saw this one coming from miles away. He lowered his gaze and uttered something under his breath. 

“Hmm?” Mick was interested now. 

Making a show of surveying the room, Leonard inched forward. “I suppose you’re expecting an apology for all that’s happened.” 

“Not really.” 

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Well, I am sorry. I’m sorry things didn’t go as you were hoping they would. And I’m sorry about the weeks of no communication between us. I,” he paused, as though it physically pained him to speak. “...I hadn’t realized you were hurting.” 

Mick didn’t answer him immediately. He took a step back, fearing that his little confession might have upset him further. But Mick’s frown was replaced with a friendly grin. He surged forward and embraced Leonard in a tight hug, wincing as the effort put a strain on his wounds. 

“Look at you, making amends.” He teased. “I guess I owe you an apology, too. I should have listened to you back there, Len. I shouldn’t have gone to my old man’s house in the first place. I dunno what I was thinking.” 

Leonard knew. He knew now. But he didn’t act on it. Instead, he guided them to Mick’s bench press, and beckoned for Mick to take the empty seat beside him. 

“What’s done is done. Don’t get all sappy on me now.” Leonard cracked a smile when Mick started chuckling. “Now, are you gonna let me take care of you, or do I have to fight Gideon for a sedative?”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y’all enjoyed! Please leave any comments or concerns in the comment section below. I’m always looking to improve my works!


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